


Good Day

by fuzipenguin



Series: Explosive Relations [4]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 07:59:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5040397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wheeljack's having a pretty good morning...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Day

                “-Jack. Wheeljack?”

                A hand gently jostled his shoulder, and Wheeljack groaned as he surfaced up into a light consciousness.

                “Mm?” he murmured, burying his face into his pillow. Mmm. Soft pillow. Niiice pillow.

                A soft brush of an amused energy field accompanied a light stroke along his exposed neck cables. “We’re heading out. Gonna hit up the washracks before our shift starts. You wanna join?”

                Wheeljack considered it for a brief moment. “Cloth,” he mumbled. A damp cloth would serve him well enough. He was just going to the lab after all; he could get a wash afterwards.

                Matter of fact, the same could be said for the twins. Now that he was a little more awake, he suddenly realized that he was cold and lonely on the berth. They could postpone a shower in favor of cuddling for a little longer, couldn’t they?

                “You too,” Wheeljack whined, reaching out and weakly pawing at whatever piece of mech that was closest. It probably would have helped if he had onlined his optics, but that would have taken far too much work. “Stay?”

                His hand was captured and laid back atop the bed with a little pat. “Awww, baby, I’d love to. But Sunny’s not gonna budge on this one.”

                “I have transfluid in my ankle joints,” Sunstreaker’s voice interjected imperiously. “I can’t even remember how that happened, but it itches and I’m not going to go through the rest of the day like this.”

                The hand, Sideswipe’s hand Wheeljack surmised, as Sunstreaker’s voice had sounded farther away than his brother’s, continue to stroke along Wheeljack’s throat. It was incredibly soothing, and he could feel himself falling back down into the murky depths of unconsciousness.

                Distantly, he heard Sunstreaker sigh. “Just let him be, Sides. He’s not on for two more shifts anyway.”

                “Yeah, ok. Guess we wore him out a bit.”  

                Wheeljack felt the air currents shift above him, and he struggled up out of recharge long enough to feel Sideswipe’s chestplate brush against Wheeljack’s shoulder. Then there was a barely there, warm pressure against Wheeljack’s cheek; his engine kicked over with a raspy purr in response to the kiss.

                “Get some rest, ‘Jack. We’ll catch up with you later,” Sideswipe whispered into Wheeljack’s audial. The blanket was drawn up and tucked around Wheeljack’s shoulders, and he gratefully obeyed the order, giving himself over completely to his recharge protocols.

-

                Sometime later, his proximity sensors alerted him to someone leaning over him.  Considering so few mechs had the code to his quarters, his muzzy processor assumed it was one or both of the twins.

                Wheeljack smiled, reaching up and tugging at the mech, optics still closed. “Mmm. Come to bed.”

                “Why do I get the impression I’m not the first one in your berth today?” a highly amused voice replied. Wheeljack’s optic shutters popped open in surprise even as his blanket was raised up and a large frame crawled over him into the berth.

                He rolled onto his back, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. Ratchet’s smirking face looked back at him, the medic’s familiar frame and field slotting against Wheeljack’s like it hadn’t been almost a year since they were last in bed together.

                “Ratch?” Wheeljack questioned, voice scratchy. “What are you doing here?”

                Ratchet propped his helm up on to his palm and looked down at Wheeljack with a twinkle in his optics.

                “Well, I looked for you in the lab first, but you weren’t there. Then I checked the rec room. Then the washracks. Then the rest of the ship. Imagine my surprise when I actually find you in your quarters. I can’t remember the last time I’ve actually been in here. New artwork?” he asked, chin pointing to a large canvas hanging on the wall by the door.

                It was an incredibly detailed painting of the inner workings of a human’s pocket watch. A device which had tweaked Wheeljack’s interest when he had first discovered Sparkplug using one to check the time.

                Sunstreaker had gifted the painting to Wheeljack two days ago.

                Wheeljack gaped up at his best friend, processor whirling. While they hadn’t exactly been discreet in their new relationship, he and the twins had barely acknowledged one another outside of their quarters. It was kind of an unspoken agreement between the three of them.

                “I… uh… well… It’s not what it looks like,” Wheeljack stammered.

                “No? It looks like you just woke up from a marathon interfacing session,” Ratchet commented, a hand smoothing down Wheeljack’s hip and catching on congealing transfluid. “Am I wrong?”

                “Well… no…” Wheeljack replied, squirming a little. “But…”

                “Are the twins everything everyone says? Judging by your energy levels, I’d say yes.” Ratchet leered at him and the hand ghosted over Wheeljacks’ still bared array.

                Yelping, Wheeljack shot bolt upright, the blanket falling to puddle in his lap. “How did you…!?”

                “Unless I’m mistaken, that’s a Sunstreaker original,” Ratchet said, his chin once more pointing at the painting. “He rarely paints for others. And the two of them have been well-behaved little lambs lately; Prowl was just remarking that to me. _Something’s_ got their attention. And now I rather think it’s _someone_.”

                “Sunstreaker doesn’t paint for others?” Wheeljack asked, surprised. He had assumed it was a parting gift; that they were about to call it quits. That all the mechs the twins had ‘faced had gotten something similar.

                “Optimus and I have paintings Sunstreaker created after the war began. Mirage has a very old original from shortly before fighting broke out in Kaon. It wasn’t a gift though; he bought it from an Iaconian gallery. And that’s it. That I’m aware of, anyway. Not many even know Sunny is an artist,” Ratchet said, frowning as he looked over at the art on the wall. “They like you.”

                “Oh,” Wheeljack said faintly, following Ratchet’s line of sight. So… what did that mean exactly?

                The amusement in Ratchet’s field abruptly faded to be replaced by one of concern. “’Jack… how long has this been going on?”

                “Barely a few months… it’s just interfacing,” Wheeljack hurried to say.

                Ratchet squinted his optics at him. “Well, I believe the time frame anyway. That was right about the time you stopped visiting me in the ‘Bay. As to ‘just interfacing’, though? I’m not so sure I believe that.”

                Wheeljack’s optics widened. “That’s all it is! Sideswipe and Sunstreaker would never court me!”

                “I doubt they know the first thing about courting,” Ratchet scoffed. “But would they allow themselves to be courted by _you_?”

                “It’s not like that at all. It’s _just_ interfacing,” Wheeljack insisted. “Nothing serious.”

                “But would you like it to be?” Ratchet pressed, gaze intent. Wheeljack thought he was immune to that look, but as he squirmed beneath it, he discovered that he wasn’t. Not completely, anyway.

                “Yes! No! I mean…” Wheeljack trailed off as he fell back against the bed in one dramatic motion. He had obviously been spending too much time around Sideswipe.

                “I know it will never be anything serious. It’s just nice to… nice to be wanted,” Wheeljack finished lamely.

                Ratchet’s optics softened. “’Jackie… I know I’ve been busy lately…”

                Wheeljack heaved an ex-vent, feeling a little sorry for himself, but not knowing why. He _didn’t_ want something serious with the twins. A close relationship was dangerous during a war. But he also missed and craved regular interactions, even if it was to recharge against another frame for a night. And even if both twins weren’t available, at least one of them usually were.

                “You’re pretty important to the ship. It’s not like you should drop everything just to come give me a cuddle,” Wheeljack said quietly, drawing the blanket back up to his chest.

                “Maybe not. But I certainly should pay more attention to you when I do have some free time,” Ratchet replied, pressing against Wheeljack’s side. Dexterous fingers tickled across Wheeljack’s abdominal plating, flirting with the underside of his windshield.

                Wheeljack paused before answering, enjoying the familiar touch. Ratchet and he had known each other for millennia. Interfacing between them was almost more about comfort than pleasure by this point. Which wasn’t to say that there wasn’t a lot of pleasure. There was, and Wheeljack found himself responding to Ratchet’s digits by instinct.

                “I _do_ deserve regular attention,” Wheeljack announced haughtily, startling a laugh out of Ratchet.

                “You _have_ been spending some time with the twins, haven’t you?” Ratchet remarked, grinning. His knee slid up to nudge Wheeljack’s array. “That was pure Sunstreaker. And I have to admit… you could use a little more self-esteem. I approve.”

                “I’ve learned a few things…” Wheeljack said, nodding. His spike began hardening under the nudges from Ratchet’s leg and Wheeljack’s hand landed on his friend’s hip, fingers dipping under transformation seams to tug on a sensitive bundle of wires. Ratchet jerked against him, a cooling fan clicking on.

                “You should show me. But ‘Jack… you ok with this?” Ratchet asked suddenly, drawing back a little. Wheeljack stared at Ratchet in confusion.

                “Why wouldn’t I be?”

                “Well… you still want to fool around with me only hours after the twins? So… _scandalous_ ,” Ratchet said mockingly.

                Wheeljack growled, shoving at Ratchet and rolling over on top of him. Ratchet blinked up at him, engine revving excitedly despite his surprised optics. His thighs automatically parted and Wheeljack pushed between them, fully-onlined spike rubbing demandingly against Ratchet’s closed panel.

                “I’ll show you scandalous. I learned from the best, after all,” Wheeljack murmured against Ratchet’s lips, seconds before he pressed their mouths together into a scorching kiss.

               

~ End           

               


End file.
